What I've Become - Rewrite
by EmberTheUnknown
Summary: Post-Cell Games, Gohan struggled to find the peace within himself that his father's sacrifice had granted to billions - causing him to wind up in public education with a gang of plucky Orange Star High School students who's eyes are bigger than their stomachs and don't take no for answers. He begins to revisit his past, and questions who he becomes.
1. Chapter 1 - Light Work

It had been a month since the brave sacrifice of Son Goku. A brilliant hero, friend and most of all, father. And as expected, such a important man left an impact on the people he had left behind.

The rivals he'd made, the friends he had saved, his son, Gohan; especially Gohan.

Gohan sat at his desk, eyes fixated on his calculus with a vacant stare.

'_Differentiation._' He thought, with half-lidded eyes. 'Easy_. Light work._'

He had said the same thing at noon, as his mother laid his freshly printed sheets of work on his desk, patted twice and exited his room with haste.

She hadn't bothered pestering him to take break; he didn't do that anymore. Gohan didn't do much of anything anymore. Apart from dream awake and study in bed. His body clock, over the course of the month, had become so dysfunctional that he had bothered to taken apart the mahogany desk fixed at the top of his room, and reassembled it so that the table would hovered over his mattress: the result of sleepless night number four.

Yesterday had marked night number fourteen - the day he had swore to himself that, if they persisted, he would inform his mother about the nightmares. He would do no such thing.

'_It's fine. I'm fine_.

Yet it was now bordering six in the afternoon and the calculus sheet was still empty.

Craving anything else other his bedroom walls, Gohan drug his feet through the hallway and into the centre of the house. His laid uneasy eyes on his mother, who just happened to be juggling between cooking, cleaning and tending to his brother in a manner that made his heart pang with guilt; here he'd been watching paint dry for six hours.

"Oh, Gohan," his mother chimed, noticing him the sudden figure in the side of her eye, "I take it as you're done with your work?"

Not even close. "Yeah."

The exchange melted into silence and Gohan cursed himself for forgetting why he left his room in the first place. Had Chi-Chi been right in thinking that complacency would murder his mind? Irritatingly. Would he ever admit it? You couldn't pay him to.

"Your grandpa is coming over, and we have something to discuss with you at dinner." Chi-Chi spoke, daringly stoic. The act fell through almost quick as quick as it had came, however, and she drew along breath before adding a feeble, "is that alright?"

Did he really have a say in the matter? His fingers twitched; it was far from alright. "Peachy."

And with that he was back in his room.

"Peachy," Chi-Chi repeated, before returning to the pot on the stove that was beginning to boil over.

Uncomfortably mad, he rolled the hospital-table-like desk away from his bed and dove face-first over an unmade duvet.

Why had the question upset him so much? She was just practising the manners she'd been taught - unlike one half-Saiyan he knew.

'_Dende, if you're reading my thoughts right now - I don't mean it. It's just a teenage thing_.'

* * *

Eventually, dinner arrived. More importantly his grandfather arrived. And the four of them sat together, poorly replicating the gleeful happy family that there once was.

Gohan tried to anwser Ox King's questions as kindly as he could. It wasn't every day that his mom's father pop in, and he owed it to him to at least be a good host, however, it took more out of him to beam his grandfather a three-second smile than he was willing to admit.

Chi-Chi watched as her son's eyes began to lid over halfway through his chew.

"Gohan, awake. Please. We haven't spoken yet. After that, you can go straight to bed."

Chi-Chi's eyes nervously locked with her father's from across the table; the second she received the confirmation she needed, she let her lips run loose.

"As you can see, we have a baby in the house now."

Suspicious, Gohan nodded at her unnaturally obvious choice of words.

"And babies need a lot of attention when they're this young. Which might make it a little difficult for me to provide you education you deserve." She realigned her spine with the kitchen table seat, in seek of a comfort she would never receive. "Me and your grandpa were thinking, maybe you could stay with him for a while - so he could teach a bit better than I would be able to right now."

Nothing but the sound of a fifteen year old's heart breaking echoed in the room.

Lowly, but firmly, he asked, "You're getting rid of me?"

Both guardians almost fell from their seat. "No, no, never! I just think you would do better with Dad right now. The only other option was sending you to a public school," Chi-Chi spluttered.

"How about Orange Star High School?" he wondered aloud, remembering the brochure he'd received from a plucky blue-eyed student on his last food run.

Nervously, his mother eyes darted to her food as she chuckled the words, "you're not ready for public school, dear."

"Says who?" At this point, Gohan's voice was beginning to get daringly sharp. Chi-Chi chose not to comment.

"Gohan, look me in the eye." in that moment, Gohan, wholeheartedly believed that he were going to die. Only when he looked away from the space between his mother eyes, did his heart resume its rhythm.

She'd bought the act - he'd passed the test, and she had no choice but to admit that she didn't believe her angel would survive a day in public education.

"Come on, son. You don't want go there, I hear the lunch is awful," she laughed sheepishly, saved by the addition of her father's hearty laughter from the right of the table. She couldn't imagine the embarrassment he was feeling.

"Chi-Chi, if the boy wants to go-" Ox King interjected.

"No!" she finally exploded. Her chopsticks clattered to her plate and she met Gohan's eyes with a whimsical fire that did nothing to unnerve him. "You're 'gonna move in with Grandpa for a bit, focus on your studies while Goten get's a little calmer and it's 'gonna be good and we're all 'gonna have fun!"

"Gohan?" His grandfather called sadly across the table.

"But I want to go to public school."

"I know, buddy. We'll figure it out in the morning." Ox King's hand barely made it to his grandson's shoulder, before the boy recoiled and left the table - leaving behind only two empty bowls, and one more that he just played with while his mother lost her cool.

No one bothered to call him back for the rest of the night, just a peak into his bedroom to check if he'd missed his footing and collapsed on his bedroom floor again. Fortunately, he hadn't.


	2. Chapter 2 - You Can't Save Everyone

Gohan coughed himself awake from above the toilet seat. His head had been dangling over, with chest rested against the oval and inside, he could see the fermented remainders of last night's dinner.

The anolog clock above his head ticked '6:03'. Morning. Kami, did he felt like crap.

With one swift movement, he pulled himself off the ground and flushed the taunting bile away. This was not going to getting better like he'd originally thought.

'_It's fine, I'm fine_.'

Gohan contemplated slipping into his sheets (the idea stemming from the crick in his neck) although the aura of sick around him put him in a different mood.

He decidede to run a bath.

Thinking back to last time he'd taken wasn't fun. It had been a few days and he'd made the mistake of looking down unto his stomach where he'd see the fantastical imprints of Cell's fist in it. Obviously it couldn't have been real; he'd never forget obliterating him once and for all. It felt all the more real though. And in the end, he'd needed his mother to come bursting in to calm him to a point he'd remembered where he was.

At home. Safe. Not in the Cell Games.

Oh, he was totally alright.

After bathing, Gohan shielded himself the buzzing sunlight that seeped through his bedroom window and directly into his line of sight.

He slipped on a light blue shirt and khaki shorts (corteousy of the Ox King), he cracked his window open, hopped out and felt his toes squelch unto the dewy morning grass.

'_Today needs to be different_', he decided. And in agreement, he rose off of the mountain's fields and into the crisp, breezy air.

* * *

A fly around the mountains, if he really put himself through it, would at least take minutes. Into the city, a bit longer. And lucky enough for Gohan, time wasn't a concern.

Breaking from the suburbs into the city was the easy part for Gohan. The hard part was staying undetected enough to not get shot down by a police helicopter once you hit Satan City. After the Cell Games, the world's champion was smart to crack down all the security and patrol humanly possible around the city and borderling the outskirts too. Humans were beginning to try and the thought made Gohan had smile.

It had appeared that the knowledge of more potent beings had flipped a switch in civilians - and according to the news that forced himself to watch, kick started a minuscule purge around the city centrals. The remaining drops of it still made it through, an entire month later, and Gohan was unfortunate enough to witness it first hand.

The sound gun fire shot through the sirens and helpless wailing of civilians like a hot knife through butter to Gohan, and he swerved low enough to hide behind some buildings - just to put voices to faces.

"Sir, please put the gun down - you're surrounded by police and militaria!" The voice that ordered him, bold and female.

"Please? Please?!" Someone who Gohan guessed to be the culprit mimicked with venom. "Did '_please_' save my daughters from that demented slug?! They spent their life trusting in you guys - in your work! And what did you guys do? Nothing! You shipped me a picture of her scorched corpse with a compensation cheque because you were all too incompetent to do your goddamn job!"

The crowd fell dead silent at the words, unable to maintain their bitterness to the man any longer.

The gruff, machine gun wielding culprit looked down from the top of his van where he stood.

"No. I want you all to feel the loss! I want you guys to weep and grieve and I want you all to see how useless those navy uniforms and those alloy badges are!" With his final words, he raised his rifle and let loose into the crowds of people - the trajectory of the lead not discriminating against the public and officers.

Of course it didn't make it to them, because a blonde wonder fighter came swooping in to slam the criminal into the wall behind him. He'd forgotten how frail humans could be by the time he reached the wall and was alarmed to see the rolling off their eyes into their heads and slacking of their jaw. Luckily, Gohan was could hear the heaving and falling of the criminals chest.

He didn't need innocent person's death on his hands.

Criminal. Gohan didn't even know if he could call him that anymore. If anything, he thought, he was just a man grieving his kids. Obviously there had been better ways to deal with it, but if Gohan said he'd never dreamed of burning a few mountains to the ground just to feel heard, he'd been telling the greatest lie ever told.

He spun around, culprit in arms and everything, back to the crowd to judge what his next decision should be. Once he did, he learnt that awful truth: neither him or the culprit were the centre of attention.

The teenager covered in blood was.

A bullet had somehow slipped by him. With all his speed and power, he'd missed the most important and fatal one that had hit: a teenager girl no taller than five foot four, with azure eyes, midnight black pigtails and now a scarlet, fine hole in her stomach.

"No. No." He dropped the man and sprang to the girl. She was being help upright by two officers who had little no idea how they were supposed to react to a golden glowing kid inching towards them. "I'm so- I didn't mean for her to-"

"It's fine. Things like this-" the victim coughed out, "they're in the... job description."

As Gohan watched the lid of her eyes sling over, his heart raced. Eyes were on him everywhere. The blood didn't appear to stop, nerither did the sound of deafening silence.

She was dying.

And it was all his fault.

Just like the Cell Games.

He grabbed her and left.


	3. Chapter 3 - Her Name Is Videl

Within a matter of minutes, Gohan was at Kami's place, back and worse than ever.

He hadn't even wasted a moment or two bothering to greet his old friends but just laying the girl at Dende's feet and throwing him the most pleading gaze possible.

Dende instantly cast his hands over her and began his magic, but didn't spare Gohan a second of interrogation.

"Gohan? What's going on?" He blurted.

Gohan couldn't even bring himself to words and paced around, glaring at the blood on his shirt.

Or more so on his hands.

What he'd did.

To a poor innocent girl.

'_You should be ashamed_.'

"Gohan?! You show up here after not visiting for an entire month covered in some random girls blood? You could at least tell me what happened?" Dende pressed on.

Dende could read his thoughts. He could see what happened from here. The motive behind his question, Gohan saw it and he loathed it. Dende wanted a confession, and Gohan would been damned if he ever gave one aloud, where his father could hear him.

Instead, Gohan paced back and forth, his hands balled in fists and his power level spiking to dangerous heights; the more Dende called his name, the worse it would get.

His mouth finally opened after a good twelve laps. Yet it was not to answer his green friend's question, but to answer his own.

"It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's..." And so on and so on.

Piccolo had called himself outside to see the power surge itself. And when he did, he'd never been more distraught.

Holding the kid down seemed to be fruitless as he was miles above his elder in levels of strength. Yet Piccolo wouldn't quit until he could soothe the youngster into a coherence.

"Gohan, please!"

'_**Gohan, please**__! Just finish it! He's getting desperate!_'

'_The extended super saiyan glared into the horror-struck pebbles of Cell, with a battle-groomed lust for violence. The bluish sick in front of him couldn't have been enough. No! Gohan wanted blood. And when he'd get blood he'd want muscles. Tendons. Nerves. Bones. Skulls. He wanted to see Cell come undone before him with his very eyes, by his very hand and he wanted it to be as revolting as sick_.'

'_Then Cell would grow. Then Cell would laugh. Then Cell would win. Then Cell would vanish. Then, Cell would die_.'

"Gohan, can you hear me?!"

He could. He could hear Piccolo perfectly well and he was so, _so_ sorry. His world sling-shotted back intoplace and he could feel the tight comfort of his teacher holding him to his chest.

Tears threatened spill over. He held them in though. He knew how much Piccolo hated tears.

"You're alright, kid. Everything's fine. Your friend's awake." Piccolo stated.

And it was true. The once bleeding and lethargic maiden had sprang to life on her feet not too long ago and been subjected to watching the golden-coloured boy's fit.

"I'm sorry." He spluttered shamefully. He even went through the effort of lowering his head just so Piccolo didn't have see the streams of tears down cheeks, head on. "I-I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Piccolo hummed in a knife sharp tone.

"I can name a few things."

* * *

Once he was grounded enough to fall back to his neutral colours, Gohan and the stranger he'd learnt was named 'Videl' went through the story.

"There was this guy - a mourning survivor of the Cell Games who was blaming the police for the death of his daughters. He took to the streets with a rifle and started shooting police cars and even some civilians. Gohan came in at just the right time and saved a lot of people." Videl recited, with a hand on Gohan's shoulder. The gesture unnerved him yet he didn't remove it.

A guilty and exhausted Gohan added, "Except for you," to everyone's dismay.

"But you did save me." Videl corrected, retracting her hand to cross her arms.

"By almost letting you die."

A collective sigh emerged amongst the group, and stared at the demi-Saiyan with tired pity, even the fourteen year old who had only consciously met him for a few minutes.

"Gohan, I think it's time that you get your friend back to town." Piccolo began, placing his arms back into their automatic fold. "We can catch up after if you'd like."

Gohan shook his head and sighed, "No, I think I'll stop by another time. Mom's probably wondering where on Earth I'd run off to now."

The green adult nodded and allowed him to part from him, but not without sending him one last smirk for the road. Gohan tried to smile back.

Baffled, the exchange, Videl watched Gohan approach her half-heartedly.

"Hop on."

She coughed. "E-excuse me?"

He bent down to allow space for her to slide unto his back. She didn't move an inch.

"How do you expect me to get back to Satan City on your back?"

"Flight?"

He lifted himself a few feet off of the ground as explanation, leaving her gobsmacked and itching for answers. Ever-so-cautiously, Videl shifted closer towards him and hooked her arms around his neck. After a second of re-positioning, they sped to the clouds below.

"Tell me; have you ever seen anything like that before?" Piccolo muttered to the fellow Namekian, in hopes of wrapping his mind around Gohan's breakdown.

"A few times. Usually from the elder Namekians - the ones that had lived to see the famines and wars. They would say that every night that they closed their eyes, they would relive the whole experience again." Dende replied, with woeful eyes. "It ended in a lot self-induced deaths."

"Gohan isn't- he isn't like that. Probably just still ripe from losing his father." Dende's heart dropped just thinking about Gohan hurting. He pressed his lips together and exhaled gloom.

"Piccolo, that happened a month ago."

"Well, maybe he's not over it! You don't that kid like I do! He's not like that!"

The sharp denial hadn't done much to convince either one of them, and Piccolo made a mental note to pop in to see Gohan more often. Kami knew that they both needed it.

* * *

"How? How on Earth can you fly like this?! This is amazing!" Videl exclaimed from above Gohan. He pulled his lips into a tight lip smile the best that he could but failed to keep it up. It wasn't like she could really see his face from where she was sitting anyway.

"It's a long, complicated process." He decided that was answer enough.

"Well, I'm a quick learner."

He bit back the groan at the end of his lips and traded it for another exhausted sigh. "Maybe. Someday."

'_Hopefully never_.'


	4. Chapter 4 - Ghosts Don't Eat

Re entering the Son household wore a bit more on Gohan that he would have liked to lead on. The look of pure surprise on his mother's face weighed in his heavy heart as he braced himself for whatever would come next.

Instead of the scold he'd assumed (and deep down, kind had wanted), Chi-Chi let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding and resumed their almost full family breakfast. Gohan instictly placed himself at one of the empty plates at the end of the table and bit his lip once he'd recognised why there had been more than one.

'_It's Dad's seat_.'

It stung to know his mother would still through the effort of laying out one extra seat at the table - just in case he'd decided to go back on his decision and come home, once and for all.

Stung was too mild a verb.

"Mom." The fourteen year old hadn't even recognised his own voice until he'd heard the confused and startled hum of his mother. "The extra chair. Can I move it?"

Chi-Chi's lip trembled. "But why?"

If Gohan still possessed the will to eat by now, it certainly wouldn't have survived by the end of their breakfast.

"Because... because..." Despite his answer being obvious, Chi-Chi let him finish. "Because ghosts don't eat."

The words felt like a slap in the face, yet she would hold it bravely and (on request) displaced her husband's chair from beside her. It sat lonely in the corner, next to Goten's cot and the sudden thud had rendered the infant conscious. Goten started to cry his lungs out. Maybe from hunger, maybe from annoyance, or maybe because he could see the spiky haired, orange gi wearing fellow living in isolation.

Gohan wanted to join him. Knee deep in tears and writhing in his sorrow. He wouldn't however. He couldn't.

In the end, he just ended up sleeping the rest of the day away - with untouched breakfast, lunch and without offered dinner.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Big Move

June, in it's last fleeting moments - passed by in the blink an eye. July, equally as quickly as painfully, flew over his head and eventually so did August with a little more notice.

It was safe to say that an entire summer had just sunk down the drain and Gohan could blamed no one else but himself for it.

He skid through the first and last few days of summer by clocking into his self-assigned patrol over Satan City. After the last incident, the crime rate had plummeted to an all time low and Gohan didn't know whether he was supposed to be happy or worried.

Feeling unneeded, his daily patrols began to slow to a weekly momentum, which dropped to a monthly rate and eventually, he'd quit leaving his room altogether.

School work was no longer a concern anymore which hassled his mother- ridding herself of the distraction that marking schoolwork in her free time had given her.

Days were long and nights were longer since not a single had the will to fall asleep on time: bags had permanently decided to invade skin bellow the eldest half-Saiyan's eyes which had easily exposed him and his lies about 'going to bed on time'. Thinning arms told on himself that he clearly wasn't eating well ( if at all and all together) and it was getting rarer for Chi-Chi to sneak a smile from him.

That could no longer run however. The clock ticked '6:00am' on September first and Gohan had to make good on his side of his deal.

* * *

'_Please, Mom, don't make me leave_!'

'_Gohan, it's just for a year or two. Me and Goten will always make time to come down and see you_!'

'_I don't want to go! Please, just send me to public school - I'm sorry for stressing you out so much - I'll be a better child - I promise, just don't please send me away_!'

_Gohan's endless pleads dissolved into crackling sobs. His knees banged against the wooden cottage floor and he swore to himself he'd never felt fear as intense as then_. _Chi-Chi's heart began to shatter quicker than she could adhere the pieces back together and for a second, she thought about caving in_.

'_You'll be in good hands, Gohan. Dad has a great tutor ready for you - everything'll be fine_.'

_Surrenderingly, he sniffled and nodded_.

'_I just want the best for you, Gohan_.'

* * *

Bath, change, eat. It was a simple routine yet Gohan had never found it harder than he did this early fall morning. By the time, he'd willed himself to climb out of the bathtub, it was already a half-hour before his grandfather would be expecting him. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't eaten yesterday night, maybe it was the nervousness but Chi-Chi was nowhere amazed to see his son scoffing down his breakfast, similarly to how he would before the Cell Games. It was nothing but a cheap imitation; the electric glisten in his eye that would exist as he inhaled his food wasn't there. It was more of a nervous tremor tat made it's way down from his pupils to his hands.

"Gohan - pace yourself. You haven't been eating great lately."

Before he could heed her warning, a wave of unforeseen nausea came over him and he ran to the bathroom in hurry. Ch-Chi simply dropped her head into her hands as she heard the sound of her son retching over the toilet seat. When he returned, the quaking apprehension had disappeared.

"Gohan, if you're not feeling well, we could always post-pone the arrival by a day or two."

Chi-Chi's words were cut off by the sound of the front door clicking close. She smiled sadly at the pastel yellow jacket by the pegs, untouched.

'_He's just a little moody. Puberty and whatnot_.'

* * *

Blurs flashed past Gohan with a lot more resilience than before. It seemed the awful eating habits, lack of sleep and pure reluctance to training had taken it's toll on him, specifically his flying speed. What would take ten minutes at best, became a forty minute flight to over the mountains slow enough that passing villagers could process the airborne teen.

Eventually, Gohan arrived at his grandfather's doorstep; he took in the sight of the well-whittled castle double doors.

He knocked twice. He hadn't needed to once.

The Ox King, watching nervously through his castle window, had known when the half-Saiyan had touched ground and made an effort to race to the front door to greet him before he would knock.

The front door burst open and revealed a fifty-eight year old man with a grin that threatened to split his cheeks and barely stopped himself from enclosing his grandson in the tightest hug he could muster: he could smell the bile from his mouth.

"You feeling okay, son?" he asked.

Gohan managed to his voice somewhere a minute after his grandfather had asked, and he let out a weak and watery, "I don't even know anymore."

The Ox King led him inside.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Ox King's New Housemate

The Ox King led Gohan inside, and through a narrow corridor; dimly lit candles led the way before the giant of a King could.

Gohan gulped. It had only dawned on him, that this was the first time he'd stepped foot in his grandfather's home - and knew not what to expect from such an important-sounding man.

As if to set the mood, the Ox King's eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his transforming from their natural boom to more hurried patters. Gohan's heart exploded in his chest the moment he'd looked back; the castle doors were almost unidentifiable from there, and they only appeared to be halfway.

Suddenly, the Ox King stopped.

"There's a door here," he explained, pressing boldly on a stretch of wall that rotated at its masters command, "the long hallway is just to intimidate the new visitors."

With a playful bow, the Ox King allowed Gohan through the opened passage and watched him as he wondered into the castle's main room. The boy hadn't even noticed the thud of the hidden door or the behemoth that had strode in beside him; the sight of the room was simply too much.

Acre upon acre of fine, combed carpet outstretched before him. It had been only when he looked down to see, had Gohan noted how his the toes of his shoes and sunken half in inch into the floor, and sparked a memory of his first ride on the Nimbus cloud.

Rugs of all shape and colour laid splattered in a mosaic of fur. The homeliness of the parlour gladdened him terribly, and he walked over to remove his shoes exactly where he had watched his grandfather do the same, and breathed in the aromas of incense and smoke. The candles responsible for the castle's rich scent, were planted in each corner of the room, with a translucent golden dome around them - surely to prevent an unruly fire; Gohan remembered his father telling him stories of the castle's last one.

"Grandpa," Gohan called. His grandfather's face hardened in anticipation. "I like your castle."

The elder watched as his grandson explored the parlour in greater detail, politely inquiring if each well-shampooed skin he'd touch would be comfier than the last. And too his amazement, they always were.

Once the eleven year old had made his way to every hide-covered couch, table and rug, he sized in amazement the monstrous taxidermy beside the fireplace that rendered his grandfather's zoology-based birthday gifts to thank the utmost useful.

"Is that a Beresovka Mammoth?" the boy asked. Had he spoke any louder, his tone could have been mistake for excitement.

"You like it?" the Ox King asked, with a poorly withheld grin and an arm clasped around the saiyan's shoulder. "She was the last of her kind - a baby orphan when we found her. Absolutely terrified, she was - but after we gave her a little love, she wasn't a half-bad house pet."

"You had a mammoth for a house pet?"

"If anything, your mom had a mammoth for a house pet, I pretty much had a second daughter!"

The two's laughter echoed through the empty castle, threatening to tumble of the china stacked royally high in the dining room and to deafen any local inhabitants of the Ox King's local farmland. Gohan managed to catch himself halfway through, while his much less tight-shouldered grandparent let out mighty guffaws.

Here marked, the first time Gohan had laughed since his he'd gotten home from the Cell Games - and if he were honest, he felt guilty about sharing it with anyone else other than his mother.

Noting the drop in fervour, the Ox King guided his newest housemate through the rest of the castle, patiently awaiting the timely gasps that Gohan was delivered whenever the Ox King was eager for a reaction. As impressive as the property stood, it was hard to enjoy the view when all one would see was the word 'Betrayal' splattered in scarlet font.

'_This is just temporary, I shouldn't get attached_.'

By the end of the morning, the two had explored every room but one - one that Gohan assumed was still loaded to the brim with the cars-full of school equipment his mother had her father bring. Though he'd readied his expectations for mess and cluster, Gohan found his interest mildly piqued on why his new guardian hadn't bothered mentioning it. And with that same curiosity, he ventured quietly into the room.

"Gohan, wai-"

Quietly, but not quiet enough as his grandfather raced from the kitchen to catch his grandson in the act of peaking at his new room.

The room, reaching an unbelievable fifteen metre's wide and seven metres long, was an almost exact replica of his bedroom back at his father's house - the only variation being the perfectly-fixed desk in the corner and not the splintered and uneven half-board Gohan had fixed over his bed during one of his three am breakdowns.

The room hadn't been half-finished like the boy had supposed; if anything, the room had looked ready for weeks, with the scent of drying paint that his mind had prepared fading into the familiar scent of lavender and sweet grass.

One small sniff at a pillow told him that his grandfather had bothered to even use the same washing powder as his mother, just so the teen could feel more at home.

"Grandpa-"

"I know that I won't ever be a half-good replacement for your mother- I'm not trying to be! I just thought doing this would help you feel a little less... homesick," admitted the Ox King.

Gohan, still clutching the bed pillow, fought back the welling of tears in his eyes and nodded.

"Ah!" his grandparent voiced, hoping to ease the intensity of the room. He raced over to the room's curtains, and revealed the twin sliding windows behind them, only this time each were seven and a half metres wide and much more easy to open without waking the house with a frictional scream.

The windows opened to a merry- looking farm, perimeters of field to pens of all kinds, acres soil broken and ready for harvest and a greatly majority left as free space for whatever the saiyan-hybrid's heart desired.

Gohan felt guilty; with the all the wailing and pleading he had gone through to stay back at the house, and turns out his mother had been right: it had be better that he moved in with his grandfather. Not only grander experience, but more fruitful too. This way, he would no longer be bundled in a six-by-four room with barely enough space to house himself and his ever-proliferating self-hatred. No, this place was (quite literally) a farm for prodigy, and Gohan had to bite himself not to love it.

"I love it," Gohan squeaked, still trying to reinforce his eyes natural dams before he would worry his grandfather even more.

"I'm glad, Gohan," the Ox King said, crossing his arms with a proud grin. Gohan couldn't bring himself to meet it. "By the way, you might want to pack a few things - I told Orange Star High School you'd be a few hours late today, since you were moving in and all."

Utterly shocked, Gohan sat upright and spoke, "What? You mean?"

"Yep. You're going to public school! Just, don't tell your mother."

* * *

_**Sorry for whatever the last version of this chapter was, that was my first rewrite and it SUCKED. It was late and I forgot I wasn't supposed to publish it. Anyway, thank you sincerely to everyone who's followed/**_**_favourited me and or the story; it means a lot! Also sorry that you guys only got one chapter today, your girl had to spend fours hours submitting job applications. Not fun. On the brighter side of things, I got into an engineering school, guys! _**

**_I apologise a lot, sorry bout that too._**

**_Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate it, and if you don't, I hope you all had a great day off whatever you do! _**

**_EmberTheUnknown out!_**


	7. Chapter 7 - We All Need A Mr Purple

By no later than twelve-thirty, Gohan arrived at the polished tangerine gates of Orange Star High School - he chuckled at the effort they'd put in to maintaining school spirit throughout the lot.

One hand was fixed and trifling with orange star badge, one he'd never been so elated to see and so proud to wear - he decided he owed his grandfather some kind of apology when he got back home. His second hand was moments away from the school buzzer, hovering with a nervousness that many mistook for fear.

Especially, the girl who'd arrived just moments behind him.

"Wait!" she called. Gohan, with a fierce enthusiasm complied.

"You never go back through the reception if you sneak out for lunch!" she warned, with a finger dancing in his face and and finger-less gloved hand around the end of his wrist, "our receptionist never forgets a face - you'd be in the principals office faster than you could say-"

"Videl," Gohan muttered, his jaw slacking flat as soon as the name left his mouth.

In complete amazement, the blonde let go off him, spinning on her heel to catch Videl behind her with the same deer in headlights expression.

"Gohan?" Videl voiced, uncertain, "is that really you?"

Unable to find the words, the boy in question simply stepped forward and allowed himself enveloped in the tightest hug that the fourteen year old could muster - exciting a short-haired blonde and dismaying a much taller, frail-framed one. One that, before she'd recognised Gohan, had had his noticeably toned bicep interlocked with Videl's.

The two exchanged pleasantries for a while longer, with Gohan unable to do more but hang wordlessly in her arms before someone dared to interrupt.

"Hey, Gochan - or whatever the hell she called you-"

"Gohan," Videl corrected. Gohan turned to him with an inkling of amusement caught in his eye - it did not help to settle the blond.

"Yeah, you, I get it's nice to catch up and everything, but we've got like ten minutes to get back in school and it's about a nine minute journey from here. If you don't mind..." the boy stated, pointing to the top of the building.

"Oh, I can give you guys a ride," the half-saiyan replied.

Before the blond boy behind her could further antagonise the boy who she doubted had even noticed the quite-near literal smoke coming out of her friend's ears, Videl took charge of the situation.

"Nah, that's fine - Gohan's probably got a lot of important stuff to do, am I right? He couldn't be wasting his time with a bunch of rebellious teenagers," Videl said with a wink, finally letting go of him.

"Actually, I was about to enrol here. I was told to come through the reception to get my student ID and things," he said, dusting himself clean of the interaction - somewhere between being crushed between the arms of a seven foot android and the pity affection he received from the all the Z-fighters, Krillin especially, had he discovered his claustrophobia.

He laughed a 'see you later' and poked the buzzer with an almost non-existent nail before being let in by a terrifyingly observant receptionist who warned him not to make a habit of hanging out with the trio he'd met outside.

"They're bad news, Gohan; they think I haven't caught them once sneaking in 'n' out through the fire escape and grabbing lunch, all day last year. I'm just waiting for them to slip up so I can get a little _something_ out that Videl Satan."

Overlooking the unprofessionally corrupt receptionist, Gohan took in the new tangerine-coloured surroundings. It seemed that Orange Star High School really liked to show school spirit... everywhere. They even went as far as dedicating their air fresheners to a citrus aroma, just to finish driving in the last school-patriotic nail.

Until Gohan had realised what the buzz cut-sporting, thick-rim glasses wearing man just said.

"Pardon me?" he spluttered, "Videl Satan?"

"Ugh, the daughter of that arrogant pimple. Look at me, I saved the world, instead of just humbly residing looking down on a grateful Earth, let me just name a whole city after me and throw parades and galas every day. Because Cell wasn't a wake up call."

Gohan found himself taking a liking to this 'Mr. Purple' (as stated on the name card of the receptionist's desk). His mind dared to ask if he would be allowed to work here with a name as such, but the receptionist had beat him to it.

"Better hide this before Vice Principal Satsuma sees this," the man said, pulling back his plastic name card, "ruins the theme we've got going."

Unable to any longer hide his fondness towards the receptionist, Gohan let out a hearty laugh - one he hadn't known he was capable of. Unlike with his grandfather, he let rip through the air and welcomed the opened mouth grin on his cheeks.

"It's nice to you relax a bit, you looked pretty tense out there," the receptionist stated, "I remember reading that this was your first time day in public education so I've got to hand it to you, Gohan, you're a bright kid. Just remember that and you'll be fine."

Gohan nodded with a newfound keenness to speed through the halls and begin his first class of the day. He picked up his student ID badge, school planner and timetable from the table and bowed a farewell to the gold-toothed receptionist he had the pleasure of meeting.

"Wait, I never told you my name," Gohan suddenly realised.

"Oh, right, I never forget a face. I recognised it from your application. Now stop wasting time and have the best half-first day ever, nerd."

Without wasting another second, Gohan did as he was told and almost flew through the halls, looking for his first class of the day, his timetable pointing him to the room GB10, where he happened to meet the same three students he was told had nine minute journey to their class four minutes later, and judging by the grey-cameo rucksack on the seat and Piccolo-like glare she'd give every student who dared to move it - she was saving him a seat.

Oh, he definitely owed his grandfather an apology: he wondered what the man's favourite flowers were, the two talk nearly enough as he'd thought they did.

* * *

**_Is that another chapter of What I've Become? Oh, I think it is. I hope you enjoyed chapter, I wrote it all in one burst. Please leave a review if you read it, anything, it could just be a "LOL" and I'm content. I love to know what you guys think - and shout to Gokuu the Carrot for being my number one supporter throughout my time on this site. I love you, man. _**

**_See you guys next chapter, EmberTheUnknown, out!_**


	8. Chapter 8 - Madam Azul

Now taken his seat, Gohan watched the group interact, piecing together names with faces from glimpses of their bickering and horseplay.

"To think you made it into AP English," the blond that Gohan now knew as Sharpener quipped, folding giant arms and throwing gawky legs over his desk.

"Says you! Who thought that the King of the World was a Cocker Spaniel, again?" Videl exploded, tilting her head in the most condescending of ways.

"So what? I don't study dog breeds, big whoops!" he retorted, "it's not like I have a million better things to do."

Unable to kill her amusement any longer, Erasa decided to chip in.

"It's the name of the universal anthem, silly."

Sheepish from the fact that he also hadn't known the breed of dog their worldly King was, neither had he'd ever listened to the world's universal anthem, Gohan decided to shift his attention from the squabbling three and to the woman who'd slipped into the class and was watching them all studiously from behind an oak, chromatically-ordered desk.

Once a minute had passed and the high-brow woman had made no attempts of soothing her ever-rioting class, Gohan took it upon himself to elbow the sharp-tongued teenager beside him who had appeared to be two name-calls away from beheading Sharpener.

"Huh, _oh crap,_" she said, finally noticing the pint-sized English Literature teacher at the front of the classroom and retaking her seat, "thanks, Gohan. Good eye."

He barely registered the compliment, too concerned with the woman staring holes into his pupils, before she even bothered to address the class.

"I'm Madam Azul, I will be your AP English teacher this year," Madam Azul said with heavy accent, only breaking eye contact with Gohan to stun a particularly loud student back into silence, "I expect big things from you all, some in particular."

Gohan tore his eyes away; the eye contact made his empty stomach churn.

Luckily for him, none of the students on his row had been any the wiser, and simply brought the required material from their bags, not sparing a glance to the paling student on their left. Gohan deemed it wise to do the same.

* * *

After an hour of distressingly focused eye contact, Gohan's first Orange Star High School advanced class came to a close - half an hour early actually. Students were released into the halls, where they could frolic from locker to locker until the bell for their final class of the day would commence and they would right back trapped an hour of their selective.

"Gohan," she called, "wait behind."

Erasa, Videl and even Sharpener threw him a glances of pity before bursting through the open door like bats out of hell.

He complied, silently, remembering to release a few thousands of his power level in case his pessimistic nature was anywhere as accurate as his aim. Once they were alone, she stood up and closed the door.

"How are you finding it?" she asked, eerily casual for the unwavering glower on her face. His heart a double take. "Orange Star High School, public school, I mean?"

"Fine," he decided on, with a second of doubt, still maintaining his defensive posture.

"That's excellent," she cheered, lightening her expression with a grin and applause, "I was worried about you, seeing who you were sat next to - that three can be muy intense, si?"

'Talk about intense,' he mentally quipped, softening his stance.

"They're really not that bad, Madam Azul. I don't know why everyone's so worried about me."

Madam Azul took a seat at the edge of desk and chuckled, "They're peculiar children, the Three Musketeers reborn. Of course, they're my students and I care for them as much as possible and appropriate, but dare I say, those children scare me. Especially that Miss Satan."

Gohan's eyes shot open wide in response to his teacher's confession; he hadn't even needed to ask why before his teacher would begin again, with a shudder down her spine.

"They have this little fan club, well, - its borderline a cult - they like to hunt down 'alien threats'." She pulled an empty coffee mug beside her waist to her lips, humming in disappointment and continuing. "Formed it last year in Middle School during the Cell Games. It was cute. Now, it's just worrying."

Gohan couldn't believe what he was hearing, neither could had he followed anything that had left her mouth past 'threat'. He gulped twice.

Noticing his shift in demeanour (his third one throughout their conversation), Madam Azul tried to amend the situation. "Oh, please don't let me change your opinion of them. They're bright and beautiful young minds. I've said too much! Please, Gohan; you're excused, have a splendid afternoon!" She dismissed him with one last wink, "enjoy the extra twenty-five minute break!"

As instructed, Gohan exited the classroom uneasily, and was startled to find the trio's poor attempt at eavesdropping from the room door.

"So, Gohan," Sharpener started, with festering curiosity, "what was that all about?"

"Oh, you know, just wanted to see how I found my first Orange Star lesson," he omitted.

"How _did_ you find your first Orange Star High School lesson?" Erasa asked. Her tone was significantly more playful yet held the same weight as her blonde counterpart had.

"I'm sure he was fine, he is in AP English," Videl answered for him, staring at the timetable that he'd half-folded in his shirt pocket, "you're in quite a lot of Advanced classes, aren't you? Quite the scholar."

"Hm," the two blondes sounded in agreement.

Unsure of what to do, Gohan followed the trio to Videl's locker, where they all stashed away their English books and then justifying it with the excuse that it was closest.

"So, we've got about twenty minutes to kill before our next class, Videl," Sharpener quipped, sliding an arm around Videl, "how about a game of baseball?"

* * *

_**I always found it weird that humans were being exposed to aliens and so much alien technology, ki, different ways of fighting and never cared enough to try and learn/replicate/research more about it. Especially with how cities get attacked like every weekend. So I decided, Videl, Erasa and Sharpener are about to go all Buzzfeed Unsolved up in this place. **_

_**Enjoy, and please review, I'm so hungry for validation,**_

_**EmberTheUnknown, out!**_


	9. Chapter 9 - Erasa Whiteclaw, The Charm

As Sharpener had opted, him and Videl stood in the batting cages, amused that no student from their English class wanted to form a twenty a side match of baseball on the sports field during their now twenty minute leisure time. Instead, Sharpener hurled at her a baseball, firm enough to damage if it hit, with one eye on Gohan and Videl swung her bat to deflect every single one of them, also with one eye on Gohan.

Gohan, however, was sat with Erasa, on a bench outside the cages. He hadn't truly known why he'd decided to sit with her, the fact that she was literally one of the only people he knew in the school appeared to be a great factor in the mystery.

"So, Gohan, what do you do for fun?" she asked, faux-innocently. He could see hunger behind her round, sea-blue eyes, and decided that there couldn't be harm in feeding her the little that she wanted - just enough that he didn't seem rude.

"I guess I read an awful lot," he admitted, "and work out." Barely.

Her eyes narrowed impishly. "Oh, I can tell." Then, immediately bounced back to their youthful, bold look quicker than Gohan could register what had just happened.

"What kind of work outs? I love Pilates! Videl says it's for middle aged women who are insecure about their bodies, but I think it doesn't hurt to want to lose a pound or two. According to her, any sport that can't help you beat up criminals is useless."

"I, uh, think it sounds relaxing."

She sighed into the fresh autumn breeze. "Your life sounds relaxing, just reading and..."

"Martial arts," he finished, "and I can promise you, my life is anything but relaxing."

"Why not? I mean, no one's has been lately, what- with all these exploding cities every other minute."

Before he could register it, Erasa had managed to flip their conversation sideways and his tongue into a metaphorical bear trap of her making; there and then, did he realise the danger of making small talk with Erasa Whiteclaw.

"Yeah, those are horrible," he said, heavily.

"What do you think has been causing all of 'em?"

Gohan noted the way she had spun her knees and waist towards him the moment she'd caught sight of Sharpener being hit in the face by one of Videl's shots.

"You know, aliens, probably."

Gohan had no idea what had compelled him to say it; maybe it was his own festering curiosity, the question of if she was ever going to rip off the band aid and accuse him right there and then swarming around in his half-saiyan mind - maybe it was nervousness, the knowledge that she was on to him, that they were all on to him bubbling up inside of him and preparing itself for eruption. Or maybe, he just wanted to see how she would react.

"I totally agree!" she remarked, with a excited finger in the air, "there have been eight known sightings of aliens and their travel-craft in the last twenty years! And half those ended in casualties following or due to their arrival in the last decade! All I'm saying is, aliens are not our friends!"

Gohan decided he no longer wanted to see her reactions.

"Maybe some of them might be friendly, you never know," Gohan tried in a weak voice. It seemed his play at Devil's Advocate wouldn't last long against her.

"Absolutely no way! There's zero data representing the landing of any alien spaceship near human civilisation that hasn't ended in some sort of loss for humankind. Unidentified species are totally, completely, one hundred percent hostile - and that's why I'm going to dedicate my life to hunting every one down and kicking them right off our planet and back to where they belong!"

There went Gohan's first day zeal.

"Well, I can't stop you," he sighed.

"Why would you want to?" she inquired. He noticed how the zealous sparkle in her eye had faded once again, and beheld a much graver expression. "Why would you ever want to protect one, Gohan?"

He wished for the conversation to end. He wished for his first day to end. He wished for school to end, and his the second hour of his first day had barely been completed.

Gohan contemplated telling her why, watching her eyes roll in disbelief and lips tightened as she believed him to be mocking her. Then, he imagined the trembling of her lips when she would realise that his expression had not changed - that he had been deadly serious and consequently butchered any possibility of him enjoying his high school career. Finally, the eruption. She would spit at him, slap him, do whatever she could to blame him for the horrors committed in his father's kind's name; she would scream for Videl and Sharpener, they would come running at once and he would finish the day all alone, in a discriminatory shun.

It was a good thing he didn't tell her.

"I don't know, I'm just a pacifist. I don't think I want any inter-species confrontation if we can avoid it," he laughed, in a tone light and bubbly and fake. She bought nothing.

"Oh, I guess I was getting a tad carried away there. You're right, we should avoid any more explosions if we can avoid it." She looked to her watch. "Hey, it's almost time for our next class - we should head in!"


End file.
